False Eulogy
by Avia Jenith
Summary: One Shot. Spoiler for Episode 25, Words of Farewell. A certain Homunculus by the name of Juliet Douglas gives a short eulogy at the funeral of our favorite Lt. Col. Supposed to be sad, but it might not come across that way.


Author's Note: Please R&R. I've had this written for some time. I tried to get a bit of symbolism into Douglas/Sloth's words, a few 'double entendres.' This didn't quite work out as I planned; I pictured it a lot more striking and meaningful, but after rewriting her speech three times, plus numerous other false starts, I said to heck with it, and just left it alone. Hope you like this final cut. Here's the scene: Hughes' funeral procession is making its way toward the plot where the casket is to be buried. Sloth/Douglas is to make a speech at the funeral, what is called a eulogy. But as we all know, she has more knowledge of the reasons leading up to this point than anyone else…

False Eulogy

The funeral procession slowly made it's way towards the designated plot. Tears were on many faces, even those who had surely seen death innumerable times before. Battle-hardened soldiers and civilians alike fought to hold back the grief that was apparent on their faces. This one man must have meant a lot to them. She watched apathetically as the coffin stopped beside a freshly turned mound. It's entourage halted as well.

A silence hung over the gathering, broken only by the occasional sob. The sky seemed to reflect the pervading mood, its gray and gloomy pallor casting shadows over the assembled. The quiet stretched respectfully a moment longer, then a man in a dark suit and preacher's collar stepped forward. The funeral began, its trite, meaningless message spoken for each passing washing over her in a jumble of mixed sounds. Words, words, that was all they were, pathetic attempts to console those he had left behind, those with the greatest gift never appreciated; life. His was gone, that's all, and nothing they could do could give their unworthy gift back to him. But this was what they expected her to do, and she mustn't let them down.

The Fuhrer spoke next, words of comfort and solace to the masses, empty phrases on the passing of good men, and the loss of a comrade. He finished quickly, and with dignity, as might be expected from the position he held. A small pause followed his speech, then he spoke once more.

"I believe Miss Douglas would like to say a few words as well."

She bowed her head, a second or two passing before she began to make her way to the front. She turned, facing the people, face as unreadable as ever. The silence once again stretched as she took her time beginning. Eventually, the words came, reluctantly, true, but she must keep up her cover.

"A good man is being buried here today. He was a family man, even at work. Those who us who knew him know that his dying thoughts were of his daughter, and wife. He certainly never let us forget them, as he always had a photo or ten on hand so we could see their faces. He was a soldier, as witty and clever as his knives were sharp. The accuracy and deftness with which he handled those knives, as his co-workers would attest, were lethal in battle and not something any criminal would like to find him-, or her-, self facing down.

"At his job, thoroughness where others would quit singled him out above the rest. Secrets that no other would have found came unburied beneath his relentless inquisitive mind. Surely so fine an officer was a threat to any who dared to break this land's law. And yet, in the end, his curious and clever, often-laughable mind still proved no match for a ruthless gun. Let us hope that with his selfless sacrifice, the awful matter he pursued so relentlessly was laid to a rest. Let us hope that as a last gift for him, that his death was not pointless or meaningless, but truly mattered. We now lay him in the earth, and pray to God that he rests quietly for eternity." She dropped her head silently, her words slowly dying into silence. Her hair fell lethargically into her face as the quiet continued, stretching on. She seemed unaware of the uncomfortable feeling nearly palpable in the air. Eventually, she stepped from the front of the gathering, listlessly moving from the limelight and slipping into the black-clad mass of bodies.

But when she reached the edge of the crowd, she continued on, moving with tired grace across the manicured grass between the aisles of cold, tall stone. At the copse of trees, Sloth slowed, turning to lean against a smooth, lean trunk and gaze at the end of the service.

"Such a pathetic sight, Sloth, all those people. They have the greatest gift, and they squander it. That thing which we're trying so hard to get, and they let us take it from them so easily." Lust's sensuous body came up behind her to watch the final proceedings with her. From across the distance, the screams and cries of a young girl could be heard, and the faces of most sparkled with pointless water. "Life, being human; they have it, we want it, and yet they honor their men more for their death than for staying alive. Two whole ranks, just because the stupid fool wasn't smart enough to get away from us." A man and a woman were all that remained now, the dark-haired, blue-clad male in front, head bowed. "Pathetic."

After a minute or two, the blonde woman approached the man. They spoke a moment, then turned and left. "Come on, you better get back to your sleepy little desk job before anyone notices the Fuhrer's precious secretary is missing." Lust left silently, her green dress and black hair fading into the grey morning. And soon, Sloth too stirred, lazily strolling back to the military's base, leaving the fresh-turned grave alone in its somber somnolence.

AN: Okay, so you're probably thinking that is sucked. Well, it was only meant to be a one shot, and I more had an idea for a fanfic than any actual idea how to do it. I really just wanted to get across the whole idea that's present throughout the thing (Oh, I sure hope you saw it!). Please be nice in the reviews, if you can without lying.


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